To you death is noble
to me, it is not.
To me life is rotten
and broken and naught.
Your view is estranged
and your resolve I can't understand.
See you not the suffering and pain,
the endless merry go round of plot
scheme and greed
which man engages in to displace his brother?
What brews hate so deep
that one thinks only a kill will appease?
And what end do you see to this scene
you refer to as your life?
You say my view is vague and empty
but I once took your stand
and lived the life of a peaceful man.
I confess now before you;
there was never a day my good wasn't taken for granted.
The world is a ash place
and i've learnt to wear its color.